The Same Sunset
by Teen with a pen
Summary: Ponyboy Curtis had been through a lot in his short life and there were a lot of things he wished he could change. And still, the one thing he wished more than anything was for a second chance at saving his friends. Well, he's about to get that second chance… in our world.
1. Chapter 1: This Can't be Good

**Tulsa Oklahoma, April 1969.**

Tulsa Oklahoma was no stranger to storms, and certainly not in April. Having lived there his whole life, Ponyboy knew this well.

Working on homework alone in his room, the youngest Curtis brother listened to the rain tap on the window harshly, pouring down from the dark sky. He didn't mind the rain so much, but the lightning and thunder made him shaky, mostly because he was home alone, both his brothers working late.

Staring blankly at his trig worksheet Ponyboy let out a frustrated sigh.

'What on earth is the point of this?' he wondered, just as another streak of lightning illuminated the sky. Deciding that he would deal with it later, he shoved it into a desk drawer and decided to go grab a snack. Just then, another roar of thunder seemed to shake the whole house. Ponyboy winced, but not from the thunder.

'Johnny would have hated this storm,' he thought.

Another sigh came from the boys lips as he felt the familiar stab of pain in his heart. His best friend had been gone for nearly 4 months now and Ponyboy still missed him nearly every minute of every day. The Same went for Dally. Though the gang, what was left of it, had tried to move on as best as they could, the pain they all went through in dealing with the loss of their 2 friends was terribly obvious. It hung over them like a shadow, and Ponyboy knew it always would.

Ponyboy Curtis had been through a lot in his short life and there were a lot of things he wished he could change. And still, the one thing he wished more than anything he could get a second chance at, would be to save his friends. He only wished...

He was jerked out of his trance with the loudest boom of thunder yet, followed by darkness. 'Great,' he thought 'the lights are out.' Never one to enjoy the darkness, Ponyboy immediately felt himself get nervous and forced himself to take deep breaths. 'I'll just find a flashlight and read some. That'll keep me cool.'

Reaching out with his hands to feel his way over to his bookshelf, he shuffled forward but jammed his shin on his footboard, falling forward with a curse word. He caught himself on his desk with his hands, which unfortunately knocked some books off the shelf, one being very large and very thick, which knocked him just right on the head.

Another clap of thunder.

Dazed and dizzy, Ponyboy stumbled backward and fell onto his bed with a groan. "The one time I use my head…" he thought dryly, before he slipped into unconsciousness.

Ponyboys first thought when he came to was that his head hurt. With a groan, he opened his eyes and was forced to squint. Sunlight was beaming down on him and he wished it would stop.

He froze. Sunlight. There shouldn't be sunlight if he was still at home…

He looked around, suddenly very much awake and alert. Indeed, he was NOT at his house anymore. He looked to be in some kind of alley. Ponyboy stood up, and winced as he rubbed at the place where the book had fallen on his head. He searched his pockets assuming that…well he didn't really know what he was assuming. Maybe he was jumped or something, who knows?

But he found his pocket knife just in place as it was before he got knocked out. Checking himself over, it appeared that, aside from his head, everything else was in perfect condition. Clearly, he hadn't been jumped.

He looked down at his watch and saw that it was near 7:00.

' _Oh Crap._ ' He thought. ' _Darry's gonna kill me. How am I ever gonna explain this I'm not even wearing a jacket.'_

Ponyboy walked towards the end of the alley, thinking maybe, somehow, he was just over in Shepard Territory. It would be a good 20-minute walk home and he'd have some explaining to do once he got there. Not to mention he'd have to assure his rather…protective…brothers that he was fine about 20 times and even then they wouldn't be convinced.

Indeed, Sodapop and Darry had grown a great deal more... protective… since, well, the incidents of earlier that year.

But as soon as Ponyboy reached the sidewalk, he stopped dead in his tracks.

This was not Tulsa, not by a longshot.

Cars of types Ponyboy had never seen before whizzed passed him on the street as people did the same on the sidewalk…looking down at some sort of device in their hands. Looking up he saw buildings taller than Tulsa had ever known. Lining the street were what seemed to be logos of companies… also that he had never seen before.

Not good.

This. was. bad. Ponyboy knew that, and stumbled forward, biting his nails, deciding he needed to figure out where the heck he was. Now.

He looked around and saw a girl looking about Cherry's age wearing…well, to be honest he wasn't quite sure exactly what she was wearing. A top that showed her stomach and boots that looked like she wore 2 cats on her feet. And her pants… he had seen girls wear pants before but never this…tight.

Shaking off the shock he approached her, "Excuse me, ma'am." No response. "Miss?" She must've heard him this time as she pulled some sort of…thing…out of either ear.

"Yeah?"

Ponyboy swallowed, "I realize this is a very weird question, but, where exactly am I?"

The girl just looked at him strangely and smirked. "Little too much to drink there, huh buddy?" and before Ponyboy could reply, she was walking off, putting those little…things…back in her ears.

Ponyboy stared after her. This was not good.

He kept walking down the crowded sidewalk, people rushing on either side of him wearing articles of clothing he'd never seen before and all entranced by these little…boxes and screens in their hands.

All the while, his panic growing, he went from person to person trying to gain knowledge of where he was and what the crap was going on. No one gave him an answer other than to either laugh or tell him to go home and sober up. Although, once, he was told to "chill out." What that meant, he had no clue.

Exasperated and shaky, the boy finally decided to try a different tactic. He sat down on a nearby bench, next to an older gentleman. His voice, when he spoke, sounded pleading and desperate. He was 100% ready to resort to some shameless begging at this point if that's what it took.

"Sir," he spoke, well actually, more like sighed, "I know this is going to sound crazy, but could you please tell me where we are?"

The old man just smiled. "New in town?" Ponyboy groaned, "Something like that." The old man chuckled and clasped the boy on the shoulder. "You're on Epernay street son."

Ponyboy sighed, burying his face in his hands. He was so confused but figured an answer like that was better than no answer. At least it was something. Problem was, he had no _idea_ where in Tulsa Epernay street was. It would take him forever to get home…

"So how you liking Tulsa so far?"

Ponyboy dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Uh... it's uh... It's fine"

The man nodded and took a long drag off of his cigarette. "I like it just fine myself. Course back a few years ago the roads weren't half as confusin' but then that new museum downtown..."

Ponyboy didn't here another word the man said, because all of a sudden, he looked at the little screen in the man's hand, and his breathing stopped.

The man noticed. "Woah woah, You OK kid?"

Ponyboy barely heard him. It was as if he had been sucker punched…underwater. He thought he was shaking but really he wasn't sure. What. The. Heck. Was happening to him?

How on earth did he wind up... what... wait, what? He had never even left Tulsa before and now…well, that's just it. He had never left Tulsa, never left his room and yet, here he was... What was he supposed to do?

He opened his mouth but no words came out at first. "S-sir," he took a deep breath, his vision blurry, "What t-time is i-it?" he stuttered. He watched the man glance down at the little screen (seriously what _WAS_ that thing) and saw it light up with a picture.

"7:15" the man said slowly. "Kid, are you sure you're ok? You need a ride home?" he asked, putting a hand to Ponyboy's forehead.

Ponyboy was thinking of how to respond as best he could, while his eyes glanced over the digital time on the man's… screen like object. He opened his mouth to speak… but he couldn't. He was too focused on the words _under 7:15-_ A small line of text that rocked his world. He was so shocked that all he could do was point to them. The man furrowed his eyebrows confusedly. "Date" was all Ponyboy managed to say, his voice cracking heavily, feeling like all of the air had been sucked out of him.

The man looked at him very strangely, "Um…yeah buddy that's, that's the date…"

Ponyboy braced himself. 'please no, please not now…please don't let this be happening to me"

"…February 5, 2017."

And then Ponyboy was running. Faster than he'd run when he was trying out for the track team. Faster than he'd run at his first meet. Faster than he'd run in a game of football with the gang. Faster than he'd run out of the house on the night Darry had hit him and even faster than he'd run to his brother's arms on the night of the church fire."

He didn't even hear the man call out for him to stop. He could only hear his feet pounding against the ground. He ran fast and long in no direction and with no sense of time. He ran until he found a dark alley like the one he had woken up in.

What was going to happen to him? He was on the other side of the country a whole 50 years from where he had been just a half an hour ago. He was so scared. He didn't know what to do. He wanted Sodapop. Bad. He wanted to go home.

The date rang in his mind again, "February 5, 2017."

And then, facing a sunset, he threw up all over the ground.


	2. Chapter 2: Starbucks

When he was done being sicker than he'd ever been in his life, Ponyboy stood up with a groan, wiping his mouth. He needed to think.

' _Alright_.' He told himself. ' _Use your head for once Ponyboy. Think. What would Darry do?_ "

Despite his anxiety he couldn't help but chuckle, thinking not only about what Darry would do but the entire gang. They'd probably get a real kick out of finding themselves in a different city and not to mention A different freaking time.

The gang. Again, Ponyboy felt the familiar stab of pain in his heart. The gang. The guys. All but 2 of them. He had already lost Dally and Johnny but now it seemed like he had lost the rest of them too. All at once…

He shook it all off. There was no time to wallow in self-pity now, no matter how justified it was.

' _There,_ _now I'm thinking like Darry.'_

He stood up and decided the best thing he could do was go find a phone. One thing was for sure, he needed to contact…well, someone. Maybe the cops. Maybe the hospital, who knows. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it. But for now, a phone.

He walked out of the alley and back onto a sidewalk. Again, it was crowded with people. The sun was now almost all the way down and Ponyboy would have regretted missing his favorite part of the day, but figured he had bigger problems. He saw a man who, like everyone else, was focused on his little screen (he _really_ needed to learn what those were) and holding a shopping bag labeled "American Eagle Outfitters." That'd have to do.

"'Scuse me sir," he approached him "Could ya tell me where I can find a phone?"

The man eyed him quizzically. "Come again?"

"A phone. Where can I find one?"

The man chuckled. "You lose yours?" Ponyboy blinked at him. "Sir, please, I really need a phone right now so please help a guy out and tell me where I can find one."

The guy jerked over his shoulder with his thumb, "Starbucks back there has Wifi, you can make a call there. And grab a frappe while you're over there you look exhausted."

"What…"

"Sorry kid I gotta get home." And the man walked off in the other direction.

' _Well, ok then_.' Ponyboy thought as he walked over to where the man had pointed. A green sign met him with what looked to be a weird-looking mermaid. The sign read "Starbucks Coffee." This must be the place to find that…wifi…the man was talking about. ' _Must be a word for phone they use in this time_ ' he thought, walking in.

This was not what he had expected.

He saw lights hanging from the ceiling above rows of tall chairs and soft jazz played from the speaker. All over, people worked on what he could only describe as strange, thin typewriters and drank from white cups he assumed had coffee in them. He saw that many of the people had those things in their ears he had seen the girl wearing earlier that seemed to block out sound. He saw all these things, but he couldn't see a phone anywhere.

He walked over to 2 women to ask them. "Do either of you ladies know where I might find the…" He worked to remember the word that the man had used earlier, "Wifi?"

The two women laughed. "Little too much to drink there kid?"

 _'Why does everyone think I'm drunk?"_

The two ladies shook their heads and went back to their drinks. Ponyboy turned around to look for the phone again…

and that's when he saw it. A giant display case full of gorgeous, delicious-looking (and yes, some were chocolate,) desserts.

Ponyboy licked his lips. Finding himself wherever... well, _when_ ever he was, had distracted him from realizing how hungry he was. He looked through his pockets, desperately hoping to find at least a little money, and by some miracle he found a $10 bill. That should help him out a little.

'I'll just ask the guy where the phone is when I buy the pastry,' he thought, quite satisfied with himself for using his head. He stepped into the short line and eyed the different pastries in the glass case, deciding that 'cake pops,' (whatever _those_ were) looked good to him. When it was his turn, the guy who had been taking orders stepped away, calling for a guy behind him to come take over and saying "night, see y'all tomorrow." Ponyboy didn't notice the switch, still eyeing the cake pops.

"What can I get started for ya, kid?"

For the 3rd time that day, Ponyboy froze. He knew that voice. He looked up slowly, hesitantly… and sure enough, he found himself staring at Steve Randal.

He was sure he had gone crazy, it couldn't be Steve, there was no way, and yet, everything matched. Tall, lean, although he was now wearing some kind of…wool hat that laid lazily back on his still complicated swirls. His eyes were less steely than they'd been back home but there was no denying it, this was him.

"Steve!" Pony cried out, overwhelmed with relief at seeing someone he knew.

The older boy furrowed his brows, perplexed, "Uh…yeah that's my name, I…" He was cut off as, without thinking, Ponyboy threw his torso over the counter and engulfed a very shocked Steve in a crushing hug, wanting to cry a little and repeating his name and "it's you, it's you" over and over.

Steve's eyed darted awkwardly around the room, noticing the strange looks everyone was giving him as this teenager he'd never seen before pretty much clung to him like a baby.

"Kid, kid get _off_!" He whisper-screamed, prying Ponyboy's arms from around his torso and shoving him back over the counter.

Pony felt his cheeks redden as he too noticed the looks others were giving him. Of course Steve wouldn't want to get sappy. "Sorry man," he said with a small laugh, "But gosh it's so good to see you I was hoping I'd run into someone from the gang…"

"The gang?" Steve cut him off with a look that plainly said he had no idea what the boy was talking about.

"Y-yeah, the gang..." Pony started slowly, feeling something sink in his stomach, "Are- are any of the gang here?"

"Kid I have no idea what you're talking about now please order something or step out of the way"

"Steve…what…" Ponyboy said, sounding very young all of a sudden. A horrifying thought was dawning on him.

"Well?" Steve said, with an annoyed finger tap on the counter.

"Steve, it's- it's ME!" Ponyboy cried desperately, tears of frustration and anxiety starting to well up.

Steve groaned, "I have never seen you before in my life and there is a line of other customers so please if you aren't going to…"

Ponyboy started to cry, even as he absent-mindedly started to back away from the counter, slowly, never breaking eye contact with Steve, "It's ME! Ponyboy Curtis! Soda's annoying kid brother! We grew up in Tulsa together with the gang!" He cried desperately, knowing already that his words were falling on deaf ears. In fact, as Steve walked away very quickly and someone was guiding him towards the door by the small of his back, he kept going- not to anyone in particular,

"We were greasers, We went to rumbles, we were a family, man we…"

He finally cut off when he felt the humid night air hit him hard. Looking back through the window at Steve, there was no recognition there, just embarrassment.

It had nothing to do with the humidity, but Ponyboy felt like he couldn't breathe.

For the 2nd time that night, he found himself running, silent tears streaming down his face. Unfortunately, this time, he didn't make it very far. As soon as he ran out on to the still crowded sidewalk, in his franticness he forgot to look both ways and was totally blindsided when a bike crashed into his right side. Hard.

He was vaguely aware of a loud cuss word that he'd never heard, before the ground rushed up to meet him. Everything was getting blurry fast. He saw someone, a guy, he realized, get off the bike and run over to where he now lay on the ground. Blurry. Stupid thoughts ran through his head, and giggles of delusion escaped his lips.

For a second, he was sure he had seen the guy before. If he didn't know any better…he would say it was…

He didn't have time to complete the thought. As everything faded to black, the last thing he saw was a flash of red flannel…


	3. Chapter 3: The Curtis Residence

Before he even opened his eyes, he was sure it had all been a dream. He would wake up back home in good ol' 1967 Tulsa, safe and sound with his brothers. Darry would be makin' dinner, and Sodapop would come in and tell him to wake up, and he'd say no just for fun, and Sodapop would 'have no choice' but to tickle him until he woke up. Everything would be the way it was…

Ponyboy crossed his fingers, his eyes still closed, and hoped with all his might that he would open his eyes and that's what would happen.

But, he was disappointed.

The first thing he noticed when he forced himself to wake up was that he was covered in blankets lying in someone else's bed. The second was that his head hurt again. The third, well, where to begin?

The room he was in was quite...different to say the least. The walls were painted a lightish gray color and covered in posters of strange looking cars labeled in names that he couldn't pronounce like 'Lamborghini' and 'Ferrari." Car posters lined one wall, while on the opposite, there were 3 posters of what _appeared_ to be a movie franchise. Squinting his eyes, he saw that those were labeled " _Star Wars,"_ Whatever that was. The lights were off but the room was lit eerily by some sort of crazy lamp which had weird-looking bubble like things floating and stretching lazily within blue water. Ahead of him was a machine that, if he had to guess, was a TV, but much blacker, wider, and flatter than he'd ever seen before.

He most _definitely_ was not back in 1967.

Ponyboy sighed, overwhelmed once again, and fell back onto the soft pillow, turning onto his side to face away from the wall and towards the ground.

Big Mistake.

It was then that he noticed he was not actually _on_ the ground. The bed he was laying in was supported by a ladder and, upon further investigation which nearly ended up with him face planting on the ground from leaning over too far, he realized that it was like a bunk bed, only there was no bottom bunk, just a desk underneath with what looked like a rolly chair.

What. The. Heck.

Ponyboy groaned into his pillow, flustered all over again, and fully intending to go back to sleep to escape the current situation. He knew it was wimpy, and certainly not becoming of a _greaser_ , but at the moment, he didn't care. He was going to be pathetic for a little bit and sleep his way out of life for a little while longer. Now that's what he called coping. ' _Darry would be so proud._ '

You know that weird point where you are so close to falling asleep that you actually feel weightless? Almost like you're literally falling? Well, that's how close to dreamland Ponyboy was when he was suddenly jerked awake by a very _loud_ sound.

It was like a strange version of the xylophone and he heard it from below him. Leaning over the find the source (almost falling over _again_ ,) he saw that, simultaneous with the sound, one of those tiny screen objects, lying on the desk, was lighting up with...a girls picture?

Ponyboy didn't have time to fully process this as the door swung open and someone ran into the room and all but leaped across it to grab the thing. All of a sudden, the ringing stopped.

"Hey Princess" He heard the voice say.

If Ponyboy Michael Curtis hadn't been lying down he was 100% certain he would have fainted. Seeing Steve and hearing his voice earlier, sure, he could, if he _had_ to, convince himself that it was someone else. But not this voice. This voice had told him too many jokes and laughed at his own too many times. This voice had given him too much advice over the years. This voice had comforted him from too many nightmares and been with him through much more than either of them deserved. This voice was unmistakable.

It was Sodapop Curtis.

Pony just laid there in shock. Finding Steve was one thing. Finding his brother, his beloved big brother in the midst of all of the insane, impossible, overwhelming and flat out scary stuff that had happened to him in the past 24 hours, was a complete other. He didn't hear anything else his brother said to the caller, in fact he didn't even hear him hang up. What's more, he didn't even hear him say "Good morning" directly to him as he climbed up into the spacious...whatever you called it...top bunk. He only noticed when he was suddenly sitting right next to his brother.

Sodapop smiled at him, "Morning sleepin' beauty," he chuckled.

Ponyboy just stared. He couldn't speak.

"My names…"

"Sodapop!" Pony cried, finally regaining his senses and throwing his arms around his brother. He remembered well Steve's reaction to this, and even though it wasn't rational, he didn't care. He needed some big brother comfort right now, even if Soda didn't remember him.

"Woah woah, easy buddy." Soda patted his back, a little awkwardly, "How'd you know my name? We ever met before?"

' _Man you have no idea'_ Ponyboy thought, pulling away from his brother but only slightly. "Umm...I, you don't remember me?" he desperately attempted for the first and last time. Soda shook his head apologetically. Ponyboy sighed defeatedly, stretching out his hand. "Ponyboy"

Sodapop shook it. "Sodapop Curtis. Friends call me Soda." He flashed that movie-star grin that was enough to tell Ponyboy that 2017 or not, Sodapop hadn't changed a bit. Despite himself, he felt relieved. "Sorry Sodapop," he muttered, "I just...you look _exactly_ like someone I know from..well, a while back." It wasn't technically a lie so it'd have to do for now.

Sodapop laughed, jokingly slicking back his hair and cocking his eyebrow "I get that a lot." He winked, and Ponyboy laughed. ' _Gosh Soda you really can make anyone feel better.'_

Soda's demeanor changed all of a sudden, and he licked his lips, then cracked his knuckles. ' _He's nervous about something,'_ Ponyboy thought, knowing his brother like the back of his hand.

"Uh…" Sodapop started, "Ponyboy, was it?" A nod. "Look, I'm... I'm _SO_ sorry man. I didn't mean to hit you I was being, like... stupid, I didn't watch where I was going and…"

"It's Ok." Ponyboy cut him off quickly. "I should've looked where I was going."

Sodapop sighed. "Well, just to make me feel better, will you accept my apology?" Ponyboy nodded without question, "And mine?" A nod from Soda, who beamed. "Well, now that THAT's all settled" he said with a yawn, "Let's get downstairs and have some dinner and then we'll get you home."

Ponyboy started to respond but kept his mouth shut. It hadn't escaped him that technically…here, he had no home to go to. It scared him, lord knows, but he couldn't afford to think about that right now, so he wordlessly descended the short ladder from the strange bed, following his brother out of his bedroom, toward dinner below. His stomach rumbled, reminding him to keep his priorities in line.

Whatever was going on, he swore he'd get to the bottom of it...after dinner.

Ponyboy was surprised but not shocked when he found Darry downstairs, making dinner by frying what appeared to be bacon. The table was set for 5 so he guessed a few of the guys would be coming over. ' _Great'_ He thought, ' _More people to NOT remember me.'_

"Hey superman," Soda greeted, giving Darry a playful punch on the arm, "What's burnin'?"

Darry snorted and when Soda turned around he smacked him with a spatula. "Might be you if you don't hush up."

Soda just grinned, catching Pony's eye, he cleared his throat. "Darry, this is uh…"

"Ponyboy" the boy introduced himself.

"Right," Soda continued "and he'd gonna stay for dinner if that's alright." Darry looked up from the frying pan and dried his hands on his jeans, extending one to Ponyboy. "Darrel Curtis. Darry for short." Ponyboy shook his hand and nodded. It felt weird to greet his brothers like this.

Darry then turned to Sodapop, "How'd you two meet?"

Soda shifted his weight. _'Nervous again,'_ Thought Ponyboy.

"I..uh...you know, it's actually a pretty funny story...uh, I was on my bike and uh…"

Darry cut him off with a loud groan, putting his face in his hands. "Sodapop Patrick Curtis that is the 3rd pedestrian this year you have hit with your bike. Get off of Spotify and pay attention!"

"I was _NOT_ on Spotify this time!"

"Well you…"

Ponyboy cleared his throat, "Darry…" he started, "It was really my fault, I wasn't lookin' where I was going and just kind of ran out onto the sidewalk."

Darry shook his head. "Well, if you're alright I guess it really doesn't matter now. You stayin' for dinner?"

"I already invited him." Sodapop said with a wide grin. Ponyboy nodded in affirmation.

"Welp then fellas this bacon is well on its way to being fried. Hope you like bacon sandwiches Ponyboy." Pony's mouth watered. "Y'all have a seat I'll put it on the table."

The two younger boys took their seats at the table where glasses and white bread had already been laid out. Pony again noticed the 2 empty places set and was about to ask who was coming over when Soda beat him to it, kind of. "Yo Superman," he said, white bread flying out of his mouth, "When'd they say they'd be back?"

Darry set down the plate of bacon, a disgusted look on his face, "poise and grace," he muttered sarcastically, checking his watch. "Right about now." As the boys started to eat, the two older ones making small talk, Ponyboy began to wonder about which two of the gang exactly he wished the most he could see. Not that it was really a hard choice he knew _exactly_ who he _wanted_ to see but…

"Huh, Pony?"

Ponyboy looked up, his face stuffed with bacon. "What?" he said, best as he could with his mouth full. Soda laughed. "Where'd you say you go to school" he repeated.

Ponyboy swallowed. How to get out of this one?

"I uh…" The doorbell rang.

 _'Saved by the bell._ ' Pony thought dryly.

"That'll be them!" Sodapop announced, practically leaping over to the door. Again, Ponyboy thought of who he wanted to see most. He thought he knew.

And then, the door opened, and he realized how wrong he was.

There, looking more perfect, healthy, and more _alive_ than he could've ever hoped for…

Were his parents.

Hey guys!

I'm _so_ glad that this story has gotten so much positive feedback. I hope y'all like reading it as much as I love writing it. I won't do an authors note like this _every_ single chapter but There are a few things I need to address before this fic really kicks off.

1\. Update schedule: Simply put, I do not have one _yet._ I write every day as I can, and I publish when I feel that the chapters are ready and at their best. I do promise, however, that I won't make y'all wait for too long in between chappy's without an authors note giving an excuse. Simply put, I won't go AWOL on y'all.

2\. Reviews: They make my day! Please leave a review if you loved it or if you hated it. It means a lot!

3\. **Suggestions: This is where you guys really come in!** The boys that we love so much are in _our world_ now. What does that mean? All bets are off. If there's anything _2017_ that you guys want to see them interact with, let me know and we'll see what happens! Does Sodapop jam out to the Cha-Cha slide? What does Dally like to watch on Netflix? What is Johnny's favorite drink at Starbucks? Does Two-Bit prefer Chick-fil-a or Panera? It's up to you guys!

Stay gold greasers!

,Teen With A Pen.


	4. Chapter 4: Meet the Parents

Ponyboy sat frozen. Even as Sodapop stood up to go hug his parents, and Darry followed after, both kissing their mom on the cheek. His mom. Kissing his mom on the cheek.

But...his mom was dead.

It was one thing to find himself in this new world and meet people he knew from back home. But...his parents...as much as it still pained him _beyond_ _reason_ to admit it... his parents weren't back home. They were...they were gone in a way that they weren't supposed to be back. They had been for over a year. He had been at the funeral. He had spent all the lonely nights afterward without them. The birthdays. Christmas. He _knew_ how gone they were and how vain it was to wish that they weren't. And yet…

He looked back up. There they were. His mom, smiling as brightly as she did before at Sodapop. His dad, looking just as mischievous as he and Darry messed around, talking about something probably sports related. They looked healthy. Happy. _Alive_.

It was too much for Ponyboy to handle.

Covering his hand with his mouth to hold in vomit, Ponyboy pushed back from the table and ran out of the dining room, frantically looking down the hallway for a bathroom. He ran to the right, and by sheer luck spotted one at the other end of the hall, sprinted to it and threw himself down in front of the toilet, barely making it in time. For the second time that day, he emptied his stomach violently.

He was so sick that he barely registered the hand on his back, rubbing circles. ' _Please be Sodapop,'_ he thought on instinct. He had always sought Soda's comfort when sick, and that wasn't about to change.

After dry heaving for a bit, he groaned and rested his head on the cool porcelain. He felt the hands on his back rest on his shoulders and heard the voice belonging to them speak. "Woah there Ponyboy, take it easy." The voice was as calm and comforting as it had always been before when the boy was sick. So familiar it made him want to cry. So... Sodapop Curtis.

Ponyboy wiped his mouth and allowed the hands on his shoulders to turn him to face the owner. Soda laughed softly, but not teasingly. "You ok there?"

Ponyboy nodded tiredly, although he was anything but. "Yeah... just, felt a little sick." He stood up, wiping his mouth again. "I'm fine now."

Sodapop looked unsure but decided to let it go. "Well, uh, then let's go back to dinner I guess." He laughed a little, "You scared my parents some." Ponyboy didn't respond.

Of all the ways he'd imagined he'd greet his parents should he ever see them again, running away and being violently sick was _not_ one of them. Together they walked back into the kitchen, where Darry was talking with the two adults. Conversation stopped as Sodapop entered with Ponyboy in tow.

"Guys, this is Ponyboy."

Both parents smiled at him so familiarly that Ponyboy fought back tears.

"He's a friend of mine, gonna be joining us for dinner tonight."

"Pepsi," Darrel Curtis Sr. looked at him knowingly, a look in his eyes that was both no-nonsense and playful, "What'd ya do?" Again, Ponyboy wanted to cry at the familiarity of both the look, and the nickname.

Sodapop's face was the picture of innocence as he resumed his seat at the table, humming an overly merry toon.

"Hit him with a bike." Darry said bluntly through a mouth full of bread, causing Soda to glare at him.

Linda Curtis gasped. "Sodapop Patrick!" Soda turned red and looked down, ashamed.

Linda turned to Ponyboy, "Sweetie, are you alright?" she asked, full of motherly concern.

Ponyboy swallowed, wanting nothing more than to run around the table to her and hug her. Unfortunately, he didn't think that would be very well received. "I-I uh, yes ma'am," he stuttered stupidly, his voice cracking, "It was my fault, really, I kinda ran out onto the sidewalk all of a sudden and wasn't looking where I was going. Soda didn't do nothin' wrong." He glanced over at Soda, who looked thankful, then back towards his mom, who did not.

"Well that may be but this is not the first time Soda has…" she glanced at Ponyboy and her expression softened, "Well, nevermind as long as you're alright. We're more than happy to have you for dinner."

Ponyboy smiled softly, "Thank you, ma'am."

Mr. Curtis finished a long drink of his...what looked like coke… and looked towards Ponyboy. "You like bacon sandwiches?" Ponyboy couldn't help but relish hearing his father's voice again, nearly closing his eyes in bliss. "Yes sir." he replied back, intentionally taking a bite. He had forgotten how hungry he was despite being sick.

Darrell nodded with a smile. "Good. Make sure you get plenty, and soon. These two heathens eat more than a couple a' starvin' horses." He laughed at the two boys who were unable to respond, their mouths being full.

Darry threw a napkin at him and Sodapop swallowed, "Well, we learned from the best, huh old man?" he declared teasingly. Their father shrugged, chuckling.

"Oh, Darry dear, are you still going out with AK tomorrow?" Linda asked.

Darry nodded as Soda got up to run to the kitchen for a refill, addressing Ponyboy as he went, "AK's Darry's _lady friend"_ he said, obnoxiously high pitched, and turned back winking.

Darry, unbothered, rolled his eyes. "Yeah mom we're going. I was thinkin' of taking her out to see a show, she's a real theater gal."

Linda grinned, "Quite romantic, sweetheart." Darry smiled and Mr. Curtis fist pumped him with a wink.

Soda walked back in. "I need to take out my girl too."

Darrel sipped his coke. "How are things with you and Anna?"

Sodapop laughed. "How do you think, mom? _My_ girl…" He let out a low whistle and plastered a devilish grin on his face, "Anna. The one and only. The single hottest latina chick that Will Rogers High has ever been blessed to see."

Darry scoffed. "He's head over heels for her just cause the girl speaks Spanish." Sodapop made no comment other than to mutter 'jealous' under his breath.

Mrs. Curtis leaned forward " _Well_ Ponyboy, as soon as you're all finished eating my husband he'll take you home."

Ponyboys stomach sunk. He knew what was next.

"Where do you live, bud?" Darrel asked. And there it was.

Ponyboy took a deep breath. The truth was out of the question. A flat-out lie seemed appealing… just give a fake address… but then what? Wander the streets and get jumped? No thanks. He had only one option left. He swallowed hard. All eyes were on him.

"I...I don't remember." He said solemnly.

Four pairs of eyes blinked at him. "You don't remember?" asked Linda. Ponyboy nodded. She looked at her husband. "Um, well...do you have your phone, maybe we could call your parents?" Mr. Curtis suggested. Ponyboy had to bite back a chuckle at _that_ idea. "I...I don't have a phone." That was true, at least.

The two adults looked at a loss for words, and Sodapop just looked guilty.

"Sweetie," Linda started carefully, "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Well I ran out onto the sidewalk and the bike…"

"No." she cut him off. "Before that."

Ponyboy swallowed again, looking down at his lap. ' _Alright Ponyboy. Here goes nothing.'_

He looked back up. "I... I don't know"

Linda paled, her head snapping to her husband. They whispered to each other for just a few seconds, before Darrel turned to the boy.

"Ponyboy," he said levelly "If it's alright with you, why don't you spend the night here. Tomorrow, we can take you to the doctor, and get your head checked out, Ok?"

Ponyboy pretended to think about it, before nodding.

Linda gave her middle son a look. "Will it be alright if you share Sodapop's room?"

This time, Ponyboy couldn't suppress a laugh at the irony of this all, which earned him a few odd glances.

"No ma'am," he said, grinning softly, "I don't think I'd mind sharing Soda's room at all."


	5. Chapter 5: Hipster

Ponyboy was sure he would be far too exhausted to have dreamt that night, but again, he was disappointed. He had a nightmare, which as always, he did not remember. The result was the same as it always had been. He woke up in cold sweat with a gasp and was barely able to bite back a scream, instinctively thinking that he didn't want to wake up Darry.

Again, on instinct, he turned over to seek comfort in the arms of his younger-older brother, but felt nothing but empty space. His eyes snapping open, he saw no Sodapop. He groaned, silent tears of the nightmare still streaming down his pale face as recollection hit him.

He pulled the soft blanket tighter around him and scooted over to the edge of the loft (as Soda had told him it was called last night before bed,) and looked down on the floor to where his brother slept on a palette. Asleep, he looked just as Ponyboy had always known him.

Ponyboy noticed the small device that rested near Soda's hand as if he had been using it while falling asleep. The screen brightened from black and Ponyboy watched it curiously. It lit up with a picture that the boy couldn't see quite clearly enough, so he quietly climbed down the ladder and padded over to where his brother lay, kneeling down beside him, and taking the small screen in his hands. The picture was gone, leaving the device black as before. He sort of pawed at it, noticing it's cool, slick feel in his hand.

Suddenly, the screen lit up again, causing Ponyboy to flinch slightly, sure that he'd done something wrong, but then paused. On the tiny device was a picture. But, it was so much more... _real..._ than any he'd ever seen before. He noticed it was in color, that alone impressed him, but the people looked like they were sitting right there with him. It was stunning.

Ponyboy looked at the people in the picture. There were 2... Sodapop was one, and the other was a girl. Quite a pretty lookin' thing too. She had a gorgeous complexion, of obvious latina heritage. Her raven black hair tumbled in graceful swirls down her shoulders. Her eyes were a pretty, playful brown, and they gazed lovingly into Sodapops in the picture.

' _Yup, this must be Anna.'_

Ponyboy didn't have time to, quite frankly, _gawk_ at the outfit she was wearing, for Sodapop began to stir. Ponyboy dropped the small item, mentally thinking he would ask Soda what on earth it was when he woke up, and scrambled back up the ladder into the loft and under the covers.

Sodapop sat up, rubbing his eyes and cracking his knuckles with a big yawn. He immediately picked up the small device, pressing a button, and then moving his thumbs all over the screen, smiling.

Ponyboy, from where he lay, furrowed his brows and feigned a yawn, pretending he had just woken up. Soda smiled up at him, "Mornin' Sleepin' Beauty"

"Morning Sodapop" Pony said groggily, climbing back down. "Thanks for letting me use your loft."

Soda shrugged, "Don't worry about it," he said, going back to his phone. Ponyboy sat there awkwardly, wondering if now was a good time to ask. Sodapop stretched out his arm, pointing the screen at himself, and made a strange expression by puffing out his lips before a clicking sound was made by the small device, Ponyboy decided that indeed, it was a good time.

"Umm...Soda?" He started.

"Hmm?" The older replied, still looking at the screen, winking at it.

Ponyboy swallowed, "What... what exactly is that?"

Soda looked up at him, blinking. "The duck face?" he said slowly, questioningly.

Pony cleared his throat awkwardly, "No, no. I mean the... the device. Everyone seems to have one but what…" he trailed off as he noticed the look Sodapop was giving him.

"It's...It's a _phone_ Ponyboy," He replied, with a small laugh.

Ponyboys brows furrowed. "That…?" he mumbled stupidly, more confused than ever. There was no way that... _thing_ was a phone. Where was the receiver? The dial? The chord? What was Soda doing smiling at it? Why did people stare at it?

Sodapop shifted uncomfortably. "Ponyboy don't you…" he started, but was interrupted by a 'ding' of the apparent _phone._ Soda looked down at it, then back up again.

"That was mom," He answered Ponyboys unspoken question, "She and dad are picking up some doughnuts for breakfast, then it's off to the doc."

He stood up off the palette, stretching. He was a little, caught off-guard with Ponyboy's phone question, and hoped it was just some kinda early morning delusion. He bit his lip as he walked over to his shelf, refusing to recall the conversation at dinner last night about Ponyboy's memory… or lack thereof. If he had any kind of amnesia because of him...

Sodapop shook it off. Ponyboy would be fine. They'd go get him checked out at the doctor and he'd be fine.

He turned around to address the younger teen, "You like music?"

Pony shrugged. "Yeah, yeah I like music." He made a face, "Most anything but Hank Williams."

Soda grinned and walked over to his iHome speaker on his shelf. "I always like to listen to some in the mornings. Gets me woke up, you know?" He mounted his phone on the speaker, scrolling through his playlists. "I'll warn you though," he said with another smile, "I'm a bit of an oldies fan." He hit shuffle, and the sound of none other than Elvis singing ' _Hound Dog'_ filled the room.

Ponyboy smiled brightly, with a knowing laugh. "Yeah, I'm a pretty big fan of the King myself."

Soda nodded, walking over to his closet. "I think I've got some older stuff that'll fit you pretty well. Mom can wash what you wore yesterday." He said, his voice muffled as he searched through his closet, emerging with a pair of skinny khaki-jeans, a white tee that read '21 Pilots', a beanie and a forever 21 bomber, along with some white vans. He threw them at Ponyboy. "These should work. "The bathroom's right down the hall, you can change in there if you want."

Ponyboy eyed the outfit strangely, particularly those pants, wondering how on earth he was going to fit into them. Sure he'd always been small but... Nevertheless, he didn't have much of a choice, so he mumbled a quick 'thanks' and started out the door and towards the bathroom.

"You know," Soda called after him with a laugh, "It's funny, as far as music goes, I always felt like I was born in the wrong decade."

As he stepped into the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind him, Ponyboy grimaced with the irony. It was too much. "Yeah," he called back, "You have no idea."

' _Well, this was a mistake'_

Ponyboy Curtis recalled a memory of about two years before, when he had lost a bet with the one and only Two-Bit, (the wager of which was unimportant,) and a result of that loss, he dressed up on Halloween in a chicken suit. Not only that, but the older boy made absolutely _sure_ that they missed _no_ house on the east side that night on their trick-or-treating route, and stopped for _plenty_ of pictures. Make no mistake, Ponyboy had been embarrassed then, and recognized how ridiculous he looked.

But even the tragic chicken costume paled in comparison to the moron he looked like _now._

Staring in the bathroom mirror, _horrified_ at this outfit he'd been given, he briefly considered either drowning himself in the bathtub or flushing himself down the toilet. He looked... _ridiculous._

Surely this couldn't be what normal teenage males wore in this time. He currently sported a thin, white shirt, which was cut into a _V-neck_ , and had sprawled across it the idiotic, laughable, random expression, '21 Pilots.' His pants. Dear Lord, his pants. He had never in his worst nightmares fathomed anything so tight in his life. Certainly not anything for _wearing._ They were some sort of odd cross between Khakis (which made the greaser in him want to absolutely _vomit,)_ and jeans, being that they had the look of the former but the texture and feel of the latter. But the way they hugged his legs so _tightly,_ well, let's just say it made him uncomfortable.

His jacket was like a slightly twisted version of a varsity jacket. His hat, the strangest thing he had ever seen. It was made out of yarn and hung so low on his head he wondered if it would fall. Lastly, there were his shoes. Clear, almost freakishly plain white shoes that looked like unpainted converse with a small tag labeled ' _vans.'_

All in all... _not_ his best look.

If _this_ is what the average teen male had to endure in 2017, he wanted to be back home in 1967 more than ever before.

He groaned, and reluctantly opened the bathroom door, starting down the hall to get Soda's approval.

His older brother emerged from his room wearing… something. He wore a black top cut with the same V-neck as Ponyboy's, as well as black jeans of the same ridiculously skinny cut, complete with shoes that appeared to be combat boots, a jacket with a collar laced with fur, all topped off with what Ponyboy knew to be _fake_ glasses, and a hat like the one he wore.

Well. Apparently, this _was_ what the average teen male wore here, and not with _half_ the shame Ponyboy felt.

Soda appeared completely at ease as if nothing was abnormal about Pony's outfit, which the boy took as a sign that he'd done a good job.

"Well Ponyboy," He remarked with a whistle, approaching him, "Regular lil' hipster aren't ya?"

He started downstairs and missed Ponyboy's exasperated, lost expression. _Hipster?_ He hoped that wasn't anything like a hippie.

With no time to think about that, Ponyboy ran down the stairs to breakfast after his brother.

 **Poor baby. Hopefully y'all enjoyed that bit of comic relief. We've been dealing with a lot of angst so I figured that was necessary, but angst-lovers have no fear, it will return very soon.**

 **,Teen With A Pen**


	6. Chapter 6: Doughnuts and Doctors

Feeling more than ridiculous, Ponyboy sulked downstairs after Sodapop, taking his seat this time at the bar in their kitchen beside him. Mr. Curtis was there, and just as the boys sat down, laid a box of ' _Krispy Kreme.'_ Ponyboy smiled. At least _some_ things hadn't changed.

"Morning, boys," Darrel Curtis Sr. greeted with a warm smile,

Sodapop took a large bite of a gooey doughnut, "Mornin' dad."

The man ruffled the boys' hair, then turned to address Ponyboy. "How'd you sleep, son?"

"Good da... as ever." Ponyboy stopped himself just in time. But he'd been swallowing a bite of his own doughnut, and immediately choked on it. He beat on his chest with his fist to get the food to pass, and cleared his throat. "Went down the wrong pipe." He muttered apologetically, looking back up. "I slept real good, sir."

"Glad to hear it."

"Where's Dare?" Sodapop asked around another mouthful.

"Out with AK. Said they'll meet us for lunch someplace." Sodapop nodded.

After a minute of silence, Sodapop's phone went off with that same ringing sound from earlier, startling Ponyboy again. He noticed that the screen lit up with that picture from earlier. The one of Sodapop and Anna.

Sodapop was quick to tap the screen, putting it up against his cheek so that the top rested against his ear. "Hey princess." He said sweetly, with a huge grin.

Ponyboy just watched in awe, amazed that _this_ is what the telephone had become.

"D'you sleep well?" Sodapop's charming voice broke into his thoughts. He heard Anna respond from over the line. "That's good. Hey listen _mi amor..."_

' _Oh lord,'_ thought Ponyboy dryly. He remembered that Anna was latina, and no doubt spoke Spanish, but the second Sodapop started with the Spanish, that was when Ponyboy was out.

Fortunately, he didn't have to listen much longer as the three were joined in the kitchen by someone else. His beautiful mother.

"Good morning, boys," She said in a tone so warm, so motherly and so familiar that Ponyboy was sure he would melt. As it was, he closed his eyes and soaked in the words he had missed so much with a deep breath.

He cleared his throat. "Good morning, Mrs. Curtis," he mumbled quickly, as evenly as possible. He scurried over to the sink, depositing his plate within and holding himself up against the counter, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

"Are you ready for your appointment, Ponyboy?" His father's voice pierced through his headache.

Ponyboy whipped around, nodded, and re-joined everyone at the bar. Soda was still yakking over the phone with Anna, grinning wolfishly. "How's Tomorrow, dinner at 7?"

Ponyboy heard her voice over the phone, which must've said yes because Soda's grin widened. "Alright, I'll see you then _hermosa, te amo."_

Ponyboy fought back a gag.

Soda blew a kiss into the phone and hung up, realizing that everyone's eyes were on him. "Going out with Anna tomorrow night?" his mother asked, her arms crossed.

He shrugged, took a big swig of chocolate milk, and strutted over to the sink to deposit his empty plate, high-fiving his father on the way.

' _Ay ay ay,'_ Ponyboy thought with an internal groan.

 **2 hours later…**

Ponyboy fidgeted nervously with the paper sheet beneath him as he waited with his parents and Sodapop inside of the tiny Doctors office. Sodapop, ever restless, was throwing a bounce ball around. The tiny _thump_ it made was the only one emitted. It was a very awkward moment for everyone.

No one could hear the turmoil going on in Ponyboy's mind. _What would the doctor tell him?_ If nothing else, he'd surely ask him some questions and there was no way to give an answer without sounding like he'd absolutely lost his mind. Sure, telling the Curtis' that he didn't remember anything had just barely bought him some time, but now what was he about to do?

His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure everyone in the cramped office heard it in the silence. He rubbed his hands on the knees of his khaki-jean-ish pants _(the thought that he was wearing soc pants still repulsed him,)_ and took some deep breaths. His father turned to him with concerned eyes and laughed softly,

"What's gotcha all nervous, bud?"

Ponyboy never got the chance to answer. At that moment, the doctor walked in.

He was scrambling through papers inside of a white binder and whistling lowly for a few moments before looking up and smiling brightly.

"Good morning Curtis family," he greeted.

"Morning Doc." His father replied, shaking the man's hand before his mother did the same. Without even seeming to notice that Ponyboy was in the room, Dr. Ryan took a seat opposite the Curtis parents and crossed his legs, clicking his pen.

"Well it's not quite time for y'alls annual check-up's yet, so, what seems to be the problem?" he inquired.

Linda took a deep breath and gestured over to Ponyboy behind the doctor, "It's a bit of a long story, but I'd first like to introduce Ponyboy."

The doctor turned around and stood, still wearing a large cheerful grin, and laid eyes on the boy.

And then, ever so slightly at first, the grin fell.

Ponyboy noticed it, probably because the polite smile he had worn did the same thing. An air of coldness suddenly fell between the two, and they both seemed to realize it. Something was off, Ponyboy thought. There was a long moment of silence which ended when the older man coughed into his arm, his eyes never leaving Ponyboys. Once it was over, void of a grin, he extended a hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Ponyboy."

The boy forced himself to smile and shake the hand, refusing to acknowledge the strange feeling in his gut that the doctor gave him. "You too, sir."

The doctor exhaled before resuming his seat before the Curtis parents and smiling, albeit softer than before. "So," he began, "You say it's a long story, why don't you begin."

Mr. Curtis recounted all of the events from the day before, which included some guilty-faced comments from Sodapop, about the bike accident that had brought Ponyboy to their home. When he finished with telling Dr. Ryan what Ponyboy had said about not remembering anything, the man had looked very concerned. He turned to the 14-year-old.

"Ponyboy, is that story correct?" The boy nodded.

"And, not remembering anything, is that still the case?" Another nod.

"I see." The Doctor wrote something down on his clipboard. "Well Ponyboy, I'm gonna ask you a few questions and we'll see what we can come up with. Sometimes all it takes for us to remember something is just the right question, ok?"

"Ok, sir."

"When is your birthday?"

Ponyboy couldn't help but roll his eyes, hoping the others didn't see it. "July 22nd."

"Good, and how old are we?"

"14."

"Now, do we remember where we were born?"

Ponyboy swallowed, thinking of home and trying to see if there was any harm in telling the truth on this one. He guessed not. "Tulsa, Oklahoma."

"And how long have we lived in Tulsa?"

Ponyboy pursed his lips. "Uh... Not, not long at all sir, a few days in fact."

The doctor nodded and scribbled something down. "Alright, son, now, do you know your address?"

Ponyboy sighed and ran a hand through his auburn hair. Looking at the white tile floor, he shook his head.

"And, what about your parents?"

The greaser's green eyes reflexively popped up to look at his parents. Sitting there before him, their faces worried. He let out a humorless low laugh. "Sir, the only parents I remember are the ones right here."

The doctor was very, very quiet for a moment. "I see," he muttered slowly, jotting something down on his clipboard. He licked his lips for a second, then locked eyes with the boy again, "So, Ponyboy, Let me get this straight: You remember next to nothing of your life prior to the past, say... three days?"

Ponyboy pursed his lips, and nodded. When he looked over the doctor's shoulder, he wanted to bawl. He'd never seen his younger-older brother look so guilty. He almost looked like he would be sick.

"Dr. Ryan, if I may weigh in…" Mr. Curtis' voice broke the somber silence that followed, "I explained that Sodapop accidentally ran into him with the bike. You don't think…" He swallowed, "I mean, is there a possibility of…"

"Brain damage?" The doctor finished for him, to which Mr. Curtis nodded.

"Well Darrell, simply put, yes, it's a possibility." Linda gasped and Sodapop looked horrified. "However, it's encouraging that he at least remembers some basic personal information. I would definitely like to run some tests and scans and see if there's anything too serious, and then go from there."

Mr. and Mrs. Curtis nodded, crossing over to stand next to Ponyboy. His mom rubbed at his shoulder and Ponyboy, try as he might, couldn't resist leaning into the touch he had missed for so long. "Ponyboy, dear, would that be alright?"

Ponyboy just sighed and said nothing with a nod. Dr. Ryan held the door open as the boy stood up and walked out, passing his older brother, who looked absolutely heartbroken at the mere thought of what he might have caused.

"Ponyboy I…"

The 14-year-old shook his head at him. "It's not your fault, Soda."

His brother shot him one of those grins. Those famous movie star grins that once again assured Ponyboy that whether it was 1969 or 2017, Sodapop would never change.

Despite his mental turmoil, Ponyboy smiled back. _What was it about those grins?_


	7. Chapter 7: The Results

**Full disclaimer, the medical details in this chapter are based on quick research, so I apologize for any inaccuracies.**

* * *

Ponyboy tried his hardest not to complain, he really did, but after about an hour and a half of nothing but X-rays and scans and lab work, he couldn't help but groan when the doctor said he wanted to do one more. It was actually Mr. Curtis who stepped in and told Dr. Ryan that there would be no more tests and that any results they had already gathered were to be given to them _now_.

The Doctor had only swallowed and nodded.

And so, Ponyboy found himself back in the same small exam room as before, this time with a headache. Sodapop had gotten a call from work and guiltily run off to _Starbucks_ for a shift.

That left Ponyboy alone in the room with his parents, waiting for the results. The young Greaser fingered his skinny jeans absently, taking deep breaths to calm himself. He knew nothing was wrong with his brain, at least not physically, so how the heck was he going to keep up his little act? How was he supposed to keep convincing them that he didn't remember anything when in fact he remembered very well?

He didn't get a chance to think about it. Dr. Ryan stepped in at that moment, smiling.

"Hello all," he greeted, sitting down across from Ponyboy in front of the viewbox on the wall. "Let's get to the results, shall we?"

As soon as Dr. Ryan flicked off the lights, images of Ponyboy's brain popped up on the screen all of a sudden, startling him.

"I'll try to make this as easy to understand as possible." He flipped through his clipboard. "First of all, the good news is that whatever the situation with his memories is, Ponyboy is in no serious neurological or medical danger."

"You're sure?" Darrell asked a bit sternly

Dr. Ryan nodded, pointing to a part of the teenager's brain on the screen. "In our first test, we checked for any dysfunction in his Brain Stem and his Cerebellum… those two control every vital motor skill and physical function."

"What does that mean?" Ponyboy asked stupidly

"It means they make your heart beat."

"Oh."

"Well," Darrell chimed in, "that's certainly a relief, then."

"It is." Dr. Ryan agreed. "But of course that wouldn't answer the memory question, so of course we did more testing."

Ponyboy squirmed. _Here we go._

The onscreen image changed to a three dimensional, color-coded view of Ponyboy's brain. He watched while Dr. Ryan pointed to a very small orange part.

"Here," he sighed, "We started to get to the meat and potatoes." He sat back down, leaning forward onto his knees. "That is Ponyboy's Hippocampus."

"What…"

"It's the part of his brain that basically arranges all of his memories into a timeline. Keeps them in order, that sort of thing. And what we found…" He looked back at the screen and then back to Ponyboy for a second, seemingly unable to find the right words. He ended up just letting out a light laugh. "Well, the best way I can explain it is that this part of his brain is… acting up."

It was so quiet in the room Ponyboy was sure they'd all hear his heart racing.

"What do you mean, exactly?" Linda finally asked.

Dr. Ryan pointed again to this… _Hippocampus._ "I've seen damage to the Hippocampus before. It's usually what brings about diseases like Alzheimer's or Dementia, of course, we're not dealing with anything near that serious," he clarified quickly when Linda's eyes looked like they might pop out of her head.

"However," He continued, gazing at the image, "There's no indication that the actual piece itself is really damaged in any way. Actually it looks perfectly healthy. But…"

"But _What?"_ Darrel interrupted sternly. He was impatient to get to the point.

"Simply put, the activity in there is… how to say it… subdued." He crossed his arms, addressing Ponyboy. "Our scans indicate that your memories are perfectly intact because the timeline in that part of the brain seems to be working fine. But your brain is dimming them. Our various stimulation tests show signs of… well, it almost seems like... deliberate repression of your memories not only in your Hippocampus but in nearly your whole brain."

Ponyboy blinked at him. "So… like… what?"

The doctor's lip twitched, which made Ponyboy uneasy. "Long story short kiddo, it's like your brain is actually _trying_ to suppress those memories."

Silence draped over the room for several moments. The young greaser's mouth hung slightly open... not knowing what to say. He knew he hadn't _forgotten_ jack crap to begin with… and true, he _had_ been somewhat trying to suppress the memories from, well… the last few months. And sure he'd been _pretending_ to have forgotten everything for the Curtises, but… this didn't make any sense. There was nothing medically off with him so why were these scans indicating that there was?

"Well, don't everybody speak up at once." Dr. Ryan cut into his thoughts with a chuckle. There it was again, that cold feeling in Ponyboys stomach.

"You're not suggesting," Darrel began lowly, "That he's doing any of this _on purpose,_ right doc? Because I promise you… "

"I'm not suggesting anything of the sort." The other man cut in cooly. "It could be attributed to many things. But any way it goes… the memories are there. They're just being kept under tight wraps."

Linda Curtis anxiously rubbed at her knees. " _Why_ exactly would something like that happen?"

"Aside from being hit by a delinquent youth on a bike?" Darrel chuckled, unable to help himself. It made the Doctor and Ponyboy chuckle, too, but his wife smacked him on the arm, telling him to be serious.

"I'm very glad you asked, Mr. Curtis because that is exactly the question myself and the neurology team asked, and I believe we found, well… _something_ of an answer."

Ponyboy muffled a low groan. _What now?_

"This was the last thing we examined." Dr. Ryan raised his hand to indicate a small, almond-shaped grey mass on the image of Ponyboy's brain. "Here we have the Amygdala. Now, this little guy is responsible not for memories exactly, but for the emotions attached to our memories. So… say, for example, the anger you felt when someone stole your favorite crayon as a kid, or… the excitement of your first kiss. Something like that."

"And what about it, exactly?" Darrel was growing impatient again.

Dr. Ryan was quiet for a moment. "Well, where Ponyboy's Hippocampus seemed dimmed, his Amygdala was… the exact _opposite."_

"What?"

"To put it in highly professional terms there were fireworks going on in there." The doctor grinned stupidly. "It seems that whatever memories Ponyboy has forgotten… well, we can't be certain but our best guess is that the repressed memories are _very_ emotional ones."

"And so… even though he can't remember anything, he remembers how it all made him feel?"

"Yes?"

"Because those feelings are so strong?"

The doctor nodded, flipping the lights back on. "Yes, Mr. Curtis, that's all we can infer."

Everyone in the room looked at each other for a long moment, no one sure exactly what to say.

"So." Darrell finally broke the silence, raking a slightly trembling hand through his hair. "I guess it's the million dollar question. Where do we go from here?"

The doctor shrugged. "Honestly that's entirely up to you, Darrell. There is no viable medication option for a technically undiagnosable condition such as this, however," His eyes pierced Ponyboy's, sending his stomach, again, dropping to his feet with his next words. "There are plenty of facilities in Tulsa which I'm sure would gladly…"

"He'll stay with us," Linda spoke the words firmly, down to her lap. When no one responded at first, she looked up. Ponyboy's heart felt like it would burst out of his chest.

The doctor's eyes widened. "Beg pardon, Mrs. Curtis?"

"Ponyboy will stay with us until his memories return, and then we'll see him safely to his doorstep," The words were even and calm.

"Linda…"

"Darrell, listen to me." She cut him off gently, taking his hand. "What if this was one of our boys?"

That immediately made Darrell suck in a breath. Lord knew, his wife was right. He looked over at Ponyboy's stunning green eyes, and noticed that they were wide, very scared. He _could_ see his own boys in those eyes and his heart melted.

"Yes." He said to the doctor, as firmly as the wife whose hand was still clasped in his. "She's exactly right."

Ponyboy felt like he might cry. His lip quivered. In that moment, he didn't care that something may be wrong with his brain, or that he was 50 years into the future in a world he didn't understand, or that his pants were inhumanely tight, or even that this Doctor irked him beyond explanation. In that moment, all he cared about were his two parents, saying that they were willing to take him in, even just temporarily, and help him. He'd live under the same roof as the people who he loved with all his heart and the loss of whom had broken it beyond repair. They'd be a family again, and at that moment Ponyboy didn't even care that he'd be the only one that knew it.

You think things like that when you're a hurt 14-year-old kid.

Dr. Ryan didn't object. In fact, he didn't say much of anything. He just nodded, gave a soft smile and a barely audible "very well," before standing up, and leading the three out of the small exam room, towards the front desk, where he spoke some more to Ponyboy's parents.

But he didn't care. The young greaser was happy, truly happy, for the first time since that moment when Darry had opened the front door and two grim-looking cops had been standing there. He didn't hear anything at all that Dr. Ryan said to his parents. And he didn't care.

Soon, however, as the family and the doctor were parting ways, he felt the Doctor's tight hand clasp his shoulder as if nailing him where he stood. Then, in his ear, the coldest and most terrifying voice spoke low and clear, only for him.

"Greaser scum."


	8. Chapter 8: A Familiar Face

**2 Days later**

* * *

"You're kidding."

"I am not."

"So you just…"

"Yep."

"And it just…"

"Uh-huh."

Ponyboy's mouth hung open in total amazement as he stared at the screen. Sure, back home he'd wondered about the future from time to time. They'd even had to write some cheesy sci-fi piece one year for English. But he hadn't ever imagined something like _this._

"So let me get this straight," Ponyboy propped his elbow on the Soda's desk and rested his chin on his hand. "I type… like a typewriter… into this _thing…"_

"Laptop."

"Sure, and the thing inside…"

"Internet"

"...Right… will just _tell me_ anything about the thing I typed that I want to know."

Sodapop nodded with an exaggerated grin. "10 Points for Gryffindor."

"What?"

"Nothing. Give it a shot."

The younger greaser took a deep breath, facing the screen. "Uhhh... I don't know what to type."

Soda chuckled. "It legit… sorry, it _really_ doesn't matter. Just type anything."

Pony looked at him for a second and sighed. "Fine."

 _G-a-s-s-t-a-t-i-o-n, enter._

The boy's eyes widened when suddenly A bunch of images of different gas stations popped up on the screen, as well as countless different suggestions and articles to read. "Woah," he breathed, leaning forward.

Sodapop laughed, clapping him on the back. "All there is to it, kid. Real easy." He was about to say something else when his phone rang. "It's Anna. Be right back. Feel free to mess around a bit with the laptop. Ya can't break it." And then he was sauntering out the door all starry-eyed.

As soon as he was gone, Ponyboy sighed deeply, collapsing back into his brothers spinny chair. Listening to the soft voice of Johnny Cash coming from Soda's speaker, he smeared his face with his hands. It had been an interesting couple of days.

 _After coming home from the Doctor's office, the curtis parents informed Darry and Soda of the results, along with the fact that they didn't feel comfortable leaving Ponyboy right now, and so he'd be staying with them until at least_ some _of his memories returned. Darry had just shrugged, but Soda had felt absolutely horrible and guilty about all of this, and even offered, since the Curtis home had no guest room, to allow Pony to continue to use his loft bed instead of the living room couch. Though the idea of having his brother near him every night was very comforting, Ponyboy felt inclined to refuse, asking where Soda would sleep. Sodapop just grinned, saying "Relax, it's covered." Low and behold, the next day none other than Steve Randle appeared on the Curtis doorstep havin' somehow acquired an army cot for Sodapop._

 _Ponyboy knew better that to ask questions._

 _With Soda still in school for a couple more weeks and Darry at college everyday (though he still lived at home) Darrel Sr. decided to take off work and take Ponyboy shopping for a few basic clothes the next day, hoping, in the meantime, 're-introducing' him to all the spots around town to see if he could maybe trigger any memories. What are the odds? It didn't._

 _Still, Ponyboy was able to orient himself a bit in town. He was amazed at how much town had changed but also stayed the same. So many old spots were gone or unrecognizable, but the new look of the place he's lived all his life was undeniably exciting._

 _All the while, though, he couldn't really focus. Dr. Ryan's little parting comment had stuck with him. It was the very_ last _thing he needed right now, but clearly, something was up. Did he know Ponyboy? But that was impossible, he'd never met him before. And what would he possibly have against him? Against greasers in general, by the sound of it. It all made his head spin._

He was broken out of his thoughts when Soda pranced back into the room, big cheesy grin on his face.

"Let me guess…" Ponyboy couldn't help but grin back, "Anna's coming over?"

"Why yes, my young comrade," Soda said in a posh British accent, "She shall dine with us this evening."

Ponyboy rolled his eyes and went back to staring at the… _laptop_ while his brother began rifling through the closet for something to wear. _Alright let's see…_ he thought.

He experimented for a bit, looking up everything from 'house' to 'brother' to 'cook book,' anything that crossed his mind. After a bit he got bold and decided to try to find one of those… _oh shoot what had Soda called them…_

"Hey Soda?"

"Present." The voice came, muffled from inside the closet.

"How do I get to those things again?"

"What things?"

"You know… those, _things_ … the articles and stuff about whatever you typed in."

"Ohhh, websites those are called websites."

Soda emerged, totally disheveled, from behind the closet door and started to cross over to Pony. "All you gotta do is move the…" but then he busted out laughing.

Ponyboy's eyes widened "What's so funny?"

That, and the completely clueless look on his face only made Sodapop laugh harder, gripping the edge of the desk to keep from falling over. He could not. Quit. Laughing.

"Ponyboy… you don't have to type ' _please'_ in the search bar."

* * *

"Mom, for real! I texted Steve and he said I looked basic."

"Steve says a lot of things. I'm serious baby, you look _fine."_

" _Fine?"_

Linda Curtis rolled her eyes and gently kissed her son on the cheek. "You look positively dashing. Besides…" She looked into the mirror at her son, "You could wear a potato sack and she'd still love you."

Darry snorted from behind his laptop on the couch. "It's your girl coming to your house. Wear whatever you want, what gives?"

Linda laughed and walked away to finish dinner, but Soda didn't bother to respond. Truth was, despite his confident, easy-go-lucky personality, Anna could reduce him to a self-conscious quivering mess like nothing else. He wanted to look his best for her at all times. But with a sign, and one last look over his outfit which consisted of cuffed black jeans, a plain white tee, a dog tag and blue flannel, he decided that it would do.

His back pocket buzzed, so he pulled his phone out, flopping back lazily onto the couch next to Darry. Anna had texted.

"Hmm"

"Hmm what?" Mumbled Darry.

"Looks like Anna's bringin' her brother. He had plans but they got canceled." Soda sighed, crossing his arms.

"What's canceled?" Ponyboy came thumping down the stairs, hair still wet from the shower he'd just taken, and joined the other boys in the living room.

"Ask Darry," Soda sighed dramatically, "I've already been over it."

Darry rolled his eyes, which never left his screen. "Juliet's bringin' her brother with her, and Romeo ain't happy about it."

"Oh." Pony shrugged. "Is he nice?"

This time, Darry shrugged. "Yeah he's real nice. Real quiet, though. Y'all should get along fine."

And then Ponyboy was quiet, for a couple of reasons. One, he was painfully reminded of Johnny. Two, What was he supposed to say? In a way he was as bummed as Soda. Sure, he knew he'd meet Anna eventually (He felt like he knew her already as much as Soda talked about her,) But he really wasn't planning on throwing someone else in the mix too soon. Heck, the only people he really felt like meeting, for however long he was here, were the rest of the gang. But then again, he knew it was possible Soda and Darry didn't even know them in this world. Well, except for Steve. So why not try to branch out a little? Lord knows he had nothing better to do.

They tree boys passed the next 15 minutes or so showing Ponyboy some more internet basics on Darry's laptop, both getting a huge kick out of watching his stunned reaction to everything- Netflix in particular (Turns out, he really loved movies.)

Eventually, they were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. Soda practically leaped out of his spot to run and answer it and a not 12 seconds later Ponyboy and Darry were gagging from the living room as they heard the tell-tale smacks of 'hello' and 'I missed you' kisses.

"Anything I should know?" Pony whispered to Darry, suddenly nervous about meeting this girl.

"Nah. She's a real sweet gal. A bit fiery- total opposite from her brother, but real sweet."

"Soda, stop it, baby." Ponyboy heard a warm, sweet voice drawl out teasingly. Right on cue, Anna Avilia stepped into the living room, Soda's strong arm wrapped around her slim, bare shoulders.

"Ponyboy," Soda never took his eyes off of the girl, "May I present, _mi princesa, mi corazón,_ Anna Avilia."

The 14-year-old got up to shake her hand with a shy smile. "Hi uh… I'm… Ponyboy, nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Ponyboy. I love your name." Anna spoke warmly and very smoothly, her big brown eyes making perfect eye contact with Pony's, in a soft way, like she genuinely meant every word.

"Where's baby bro?" Darry piped up from behind them.

Anna laughed a sparkly laugh that Ponyboy instantly loved. "Parkin' the car." She brushed a piece of dark silky hair out of her eyes, before gently touching Soda's chest. "I'm gonna go say hi to your parents, okay?"

Sodapop Curtis, ever the charmer, took that hand and brought it up to his lips for a soft kiss that made her blush. "After you, m'lady," before they strolled off to wherever.

Ponyboy stiffened. He'd only ever seen his brother have it so bad for one other girl, and that girl had run to Florida after cheating on him and getting knocked up with someone else's kid. That girl had completely crushed him. He hoped…

He shook his head. Not now.

It was at that second that the doorbell rang again, and this time it was Darry who got up to answer it. Ponyboy stayed on the couch, self-consciously smoothing his hair back. _Don't be a doofus._

"Hey man, how's it goin?" Darry greeted.

 _Don't be a doofus._

"Can't complain, how bout you?"

Ponyboy froze. Completely. Froze. It was just like when he'd heard Sodapop's voice. Just like when he'd heard his parents. Just like both of those times… on steroids.

 _No way in HE…_

"Darry, c'mere for a sec!" Darrel Sr. Called from upstairs.

"K dad!" His namesake called back. Then, to the newcomer, "Just head on into the living room, I'll be there in a sec."

Ponyboy still couldn't move. He was trying to get ahold of himself, he really was, but he could. Not. move. It was like he was paralyzed with every possible feeling.

He didn't even have time to pick his jaw up from off of the floor, because the next moment, Johnny Cade shuffled into the room.

Ponyboy just stared at him, not caring how stupid or rude or whatever else he probably looked. He just stared at him. The deep black eyes, the small frame, the jet black hair, the tanned face, even the _scar._ It was all there.

A few noises came out of Ponyboy's throat, but they stopped when he suddenly realized the way those black eyes were looking at him. He realized they were looking at him with. _No, there's no way_. But it was. They were wide and shocked, just as shocked as Pony felt. Johnny was looking at him with _recognition._

He didn't get a chance to follow that line of thought anymore. He was broken out of it by one word.

"Ponyboy?"


End file.
